{ delicate cinnamon with a deep brown rim around irides had never
seemed so unreal. soft traits that hid the words for perfection looked
so pure, so secure— Allison was extant, had this delusional fantasy
of his first love been a constituent of his paranoia? Or had this been his way
of coping with it? Allison was indeed a ghost, and Scott was the place of
her apparitions…? }
«I thought I had lost you.»
{ somehow the physical contact, something as simple as a small touch is
enough to palliate the grief he’s been carrying on his back— it’s been like
a blight consuming every inch of hope that had ever grown within him.
and now Allison is here to sow it again. }
[ The guilt that swept over her because of the obvious worry he felt,
she hadn’t meant to cause him pain, hurt him in any way shape or form.
Of all people the one next to her deserved nothing along those lines,
nothing involving the obvious look of discontent grazing his features.
There was fear, there was disbelief, but Allison was in fact alive,
and she was in fact her for Scott. Like she always promised deep down she
would be. ]
« You really thing you could get rid of me that easily Scott? »
[ Somehow the touch seemed to show him how prominent she was,
maybe now instead of the spark now loss in him… Maybe she could
find that hope, the spark that Scott had always had. ]